


Resident Evil: Drabbles

by InfiniteInMystery



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Angst, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:39:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 3,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29831280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfiniteInMystery/pseuds/InfiniteInMystery
Summary: A collection of Resident Evil drabbles because posting them individually would only make clutter.
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Chris Redfield
Comments: 5
Kudos: 21





	1. Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Underneath Raccoon City, Leon has a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just sticking a bunch of mini thingers I've been writing on Tumblr here. If I write more than anticipated I will include an index or something. I always side-glance prompts, by the way. Also, maybe something will catch my fancy and I'll accidentally write a whole-ass WIP. Who knows.
> 
> My Tumblr can be found [here!](https://infiniteinmystery.tumblr.com/) And my Twitter is [here!](https://twitter.com/remmwritesohno)

Leon stood over the edge of the platform while everything came crashing down around him both literally and metaphorically. NEST's infrastructure was collapsing into deadly pieces fast but he couldn't help but hesitate despite the urgency in his gut. He found the tumbling infrastructure ironic while the walls of his heart broke off piece by piece, the black void beneath him on that catwalk taunting. It wasn't necessarily _her_ slipping from his fingers that broke his heart - it still did, it hurt, but in a physical way - but maybe it was the fact that she had somehow stolen a smidge of his shine off him when she went, taking a piece from him he'd never get back.

He didn't have time to grieve, or even time to be upset. He needed to survive.

Leon rushed for the elevator. If he lived to see the break of dawn, he would think about her. If he didn't, then none of this would matter at all.


	2. Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leon's not paying attention during his mission in Spain and he makes a little mistake. Good thing herbs exist.
> 
> Tags: Blood/Injury

Leon's hands shook as he sunk to the ground carefully, torn between reaching out to try and help himself and simply leaning back on his hands to give up. He'd been so caught up on the Ganados that were surely ahead that he hadn't noticed the bear trap until he was screeching in surprise. The note had stubbornly died just as fast as it had sounded, Leon desperately swallowing his pain.

None of the townsfolk had come to investigate the sound. Yet. He had time.

His breath was ragged as he reached for the trap clamped through his calf. He had herbs, had aerosol spray that could help. It was all about thinking positively, right? He could carry on. If that dog he had rescued from a trap ten minutes ago could run off free as a bird then so could he. He was just lucky he had neutralized the area before becoming ensnared. This was merely a hiccup. Nothing more.

_All about thinking positively._

He felt sick as he reached down, blood staining his pant leg and smearing onto his hands as he forcefully pried the trap's jaws apart. It took effort and a few leaked tears, more pain than the broken ribs after Raccoon City. But he sprung himself free and rolled out of the trap, lying in a bush for a second to catch his breath, staring at the ominous orange sky.

He wouldn't catch a break this whole mission, would he?

Unfortunately, he only had enough time to take a deep breath and shove some green herbs into his mouth like an animal. And then just like that, he was back on his feet with a slight limp, Matilda raised as he carried on.

He had a girl to save.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will admit Leon died to a trap once during my playthrough. Okay. Maybe twice.
> 
> Sorry, dude.


	3. Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As usual, Leon can't drive.
> 
> Tags: Car Crashes/Fire

Leon didn’t understand _why_ this kept happening, or at least, he pretended like he couldn’t figure it out. With a heavy breath, he dragged himself shakily to his feet. He was littered in cuts, his leather jacket torn and dirty from where he had been thrown into the underbrush. The getaway car was on fire already, flipped upside down and twenty feet down an embankment. It was another miracle that he had survived the crash. _Again._

_I always end up crashing everything, don’t I_? He didn’t want to admit he was hungover, didn’t want to note that there was a certain little _trend_ , a pattern he was starting to see in relation to these instances. But in his defense, he hadn’t been forewarned that there was going to be another zombie out break, hadn’t been told he would in the wrong place at the wrong time, caught up in the chaos once again.

Oh well.

He turned to the tree line after brushing himself off, gauging how far he was from his destination. The car would blow shortly, would lure the undead away from him. It was a distraction he fully needed to take advantage of.


	4. Isolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Leon, coming home is the hardest part.
> 
> Tags: Drinking

The hardest part about coming home from a mission was the part where Leon actually arrived home. He stepped into his minimalist apartment, and flipped on the light by the door, sighing heavily as he dropped his work bag from his shoulder onto the floor. His first stop was always to the thermostat to turn the heat back on, his second stop always to the liquor cabinet in his kitchen; his only stocked cabinet.

Minutes later with a nice glass of whiskey that he promised he wouldn’t slam back, he dropped onto his couch, sinking into the cushions while he took the first sip. He closed his eyes, grenades and flash-bangs still ringing through his skull, reminding him that it would take a few days before the ringing in his ears completely went away.

But when he closed his eyes, the events of the last mission flickered through his brain like an old film reel, reminding him of those he had lost, those he hadn’t been able to save. His own misfortune and his own bad luck, his mistakes and shortcomings. The mission could have gone smoother. It could always go smoother.

It would take a few days before the ringing in his ears completely went away, but it would take weeks before he could look anyone in the eye again, let alone admit his own failures out loud.

He slammed back the whiskey so he could get his second glass.


	5. Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leon's saved Ashley, but he has new things to worry about.

Leon hated to admit it to himself - he would never admit it out loud, oh no - but he was absolutely terrified.

"We need to wait for a second." He said, trying his best to sound calm, to sound normal. They were still in the house after shooting down half the damn village, ready to move on and get the hell out of here. Louis had run off after showing up to help them out and give them some information, leaving Leon to lick his own wounds and reassure Ashley that they weren't both going to suddenly turn into feral parasites or die.

Or at least, Leon was trying to convince himself that he wasn't going to suddenly turn feral or die.

"Are you okay?" Ashley asked, her voice lilting in concern. She approached him, but stopped short like she was worried he might bite if she got too close.

He wasn't okay as he feigned checking his gun. It was the damn Plaga in his neck that scared the shit out of him. The idea of losing control was so horrendously awful that Leon suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He took a deep breath, letting it settle deep in his lungs, reassuringly. He couldn't afford to lose his cool, couldn't afford to give Ashley a reason to doubt him. She was already so scared.

"Yeah. I'm fine." He lied. They didn't have time for him to truly be okay.


	6. Manipulation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Raccoon City, Leon gets caught and Sherry is taken away.

Leon knew.

He knew the second he was taken into custody, the second Sherry was ripped from his side crying and pleading for her safety, that he would do and say everything that needed to be done and said to keep that little girl safe.

They cuffed him to a chair in an interrogation room before leaving him to hang. The heat was up way too high, sweat beading down his temple, reminding him he had narrowly escaped being burnt to a crisp multiple times last night. Leon couldn't help but find it ironic that he had shown up for his first day on the police force just to have the tables violently turned on him. Instead of cuffing petty thieves and rowdy drug dealers to a chair himself, here he was being cuffed and treated like a high-class criminal who had done something worse than murder.

"What are you smirking about?" The lead detective on his case entered the room, slapping down a folder onto the table. He looked stern, but not unkind. Leon hadn't said anything yet in his defense, but he knew he would eventually blab the whole story. For Sherry.

"The irony." Leon said. And the man must have already checked out his background because he laughed too.


	7. Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leon's been caught, but he'll never sell out

Leon kept his mouth shut. The rope tying his hands behind the chair was tied too tight, his fingers numb and already tingling. The room was small, an ominous light hanging from the ceiling above him, swinging on its chain. His skin was raw as he tried not to shift, tried not to give his captors even a semblance of the impression that he was uncomfortable. He simply clenched his jaw and glared.

"We asked you where the sample is." One of Umbrella's henchmen said, giving Leon a particularly dirty look. Whether this man belonged to Wesker or Jack Krauser or whoever the hell had sprung up from the ground this time, Leon didn't know. He also didn't care.

They could play this game all day if they wanted, all night too. Leon wouldn't say shit.

"I guess it's time to encourage you." Another man said. He sighed like this was an inconvenience. "Just remember, you brought it on yourself."

Leon smirked. This man had no idea how much of a hassle Leon S. Kennedy could really be.


	8. Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He will always remember.

Leon liked to claim he was mentally solid. He was doing his best, which wasn't as good as others but still good enough. He'd done his time at therapy. Had gotten his sunlight and even bought himself a little house plant that was somehow still alive.

But at three o'clock in the morning sharp, he was sitting up in bed, gasping for breath, his fingers tangled in the front of his shirt. He would never forget.

He threw his feet over the side of his bed, leaning over to let the blood rush to his head, his breaths calming. He knew the steps to this dance. It was just stress. He needed to take some time to himself, to get him out of this rut.

He would never forget his first. Would never forget the Tyrant-00, would never forget meeting his coworkers for the first time and have them try and eat him alive. It was like a different life, like the Leon S. Kennedy who had shown up to the RPD that day was someone entirely different to who he was now.

He would never forget. But he would move on. Hopefully.


	9. Spooked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris witnesses a regular, normal-person event spook Leon into defensive-mode.

"Leon." Chris called gently, his tone low with the hint of warning. They had met up at the mall together to shop for Claire's birthday gift but apparently stopping for lunch hadn't been in their best interest. The second they had sat down in the busy cafeteria with their food, something had gone _wrong._

The moment the fire alarm had gone off, Chris and Leon had both been on their feet for different reasons, along with a handful of other people in the busy crowd. The emergency lights were flashing red and white like sirens, a steady chirp echoing through the cafeteria like a warning bell. Chris relaxed when a security guard called out _'false alarm'_ but Leon was spooking right before Chris' eyes like a zombie apocalypse was breaking out, backing away from the table into a couch, right hand going for the gun not currently holstered at his thigh. _Thank God._

"Leon." Chris called again in that same tone. He stepped around the table, hand reaching out slowly to settle on Leon's forearm, leather cold beneath Chris' palm. Leon flinched.

"Leon. _Relax_."

"We need to leave." Leon said a touch hysterically as he backed away faster, Chris moving with him. His head still whipped side to side to check the crowd as he backed himself towards what he was deeming a safe corner. "Please? We need to go."

"Yeah, let's get out of here. It's okay." Chris said gently, his hand never leaving Leon's arm.

He had to coax the man to move. They left their lunch behind, Leon deciding that maybe he would try ordering a gift online instead.


	10. Self-Harm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leon shows up on Chris' doorstep looking fine.
> 
> That's the problem. He looks fine.
> 
> Tags: Implied self-harm, Implied suicidal thoughts.

Chris hadn't been expecting anyone, but finding Leon at his door wasn't that much of a shock. Leon was famous for disappearing and showing up out of nowhere, so at this point, Chris didn't really think anything of it. He didn't really mind either.

Oh, how his pleasant day was about to do a one-eighty.

"Hey, how's it going?" Chris asked, moving aside so Leon could come in.

"Hey." Leon said, smiling sheepishly as he stepped through the door, awkwardly taking off his shoes. He looked a little nervous, which could mean a variety of things. It was Leon after all.

Leon took a heavy breath, the silence settling between them. "Um, I hope it's not a bad time. I need a favor."

"Yeah, sure." Chris said, walking into his kitchen without really noting the other man's tone. "Need a drink or anything?"

"No." Leon said. He followed Chris into the kitchen, pausing awkwardly at the island counter.

Chris got them both a glass of water anyway, pushing Leon's across the countertop as he leaned against it. "Well? What can I help you with?"

"Chris..."

Chris didn't like the way Leon's mouth pulled thin, eyes suddenly cast down. Leon suddenly shifted jerkily like he was on autopilot, his hand sneaking into his jacket before pulling out his combat knife, setting it down on the counter between them. Next came Matilda, clip removed before Chris' eyes for visual confirmation, before the weapon and ammo were set down beside the knife. Chris stared at them, his brain not connecting the dots, before he glanced up to Leon's face. The shame was visible when Leon glanced away and down to the floor.

"Leon." Chris said warily. "I need you to verbally tell me what you're implying."

Leon glanced back up and if Chris hadn't witnessed Leon disarm himself, Chris never would have suspected something was wrong.

Leon's response was only a whisper. "I don't trust myself with them. I don't trust that I won't do it."

"Okay." Chris said. "Okay. We can deal with this."

Chris' voice had been confident. But when Leon broke down and explained, Chris wasn't confident at all.


	11. Major Character Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack Krauser finishes Leon off.
> 
> Tags: Major Character Death, Blood.

"Krauser, please." Leon glanced up with a whisper. The genuine cold fear that washed over him had him trembling, his lips quivering as he shakily inhaled. He was perched on his knees, both hands wrapped about Krauser's wrists as he tried not to cry, tried not to beg.

Krauser had one hand threaded through Leon's hair, tugging a handful painfully to keep Leon's head tilted in place, throat bared. The other tightly gripped his combat knife, the kiss of cold steel already drawing blood just beneath Leon's jaw. The man's face was devoid of any humor as he looked Leon over, eyes wandering in appreciation and perhaps, there was a touch of regret.

"Jack?" Leon asked quietly, his voice breaking. He knew. He knew Krauser was going to do it and the worst part was that Leon's heart was breaking at the knowledge that it had to be  _ Jack. _

"Sorry, Leon." Krauser said, pressing on the knife, slowly drawing blood. He didn't smile, didn't even laugh as he dragged the blade.

Leon's breath hitched at the cold pain, heat rushing to his face, his wet eyes still locked on Krauser as his vision began to blur.

"Jack,  _ please. _ " Leon cried.

"I'll see you on the other side, Leon."


	12. Overhead (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piers overhears his Captain. And Leon.
> 
> In the bathroom.
> 
> Tags: Chris/Leon, Smut, Down talk.

With a margarita in his hands, Piers wandered down the cabin hallway towards his room for a sweater. It was getting cold outside and he was the only one in the group without an extra layer on, so an innocent decision was made. How was he supposed to know that he was about to be in the right place at the wrong time?

A suspicious, quiet noise caught his attention from behind the closed bathroom door, a noise he was familiar with. He wasn't stupid, knew when he was overhearing something private, and there were enough of them on this vacation that _this_ had been bound to happen. But Chris' low breathless voice caught Piers' attention and made him pause in surprise. The Captain had been the last person Piers had expected to catch sneaking in a quick tryst, the absurdity of it making him chuckle under his breath as he approached the door. He'd never let the Captain live this down. But wait. _Who's he with?_

"Are you still going to be a problem after this?" Chris asked low, his commanding tone demanding answers, and Piers couldn't help but creep closer to the door until he realized maybe he was better off not knowing.

 _"No."_ A high, desperate keen had Piers' blood rushing south, and it took Piers a whole second to realize that was _Leon._ Moody, miserable Leon. Apparently the Agent's awful attitude had finally earned him some discipline.

"You're going to be a good boy?" Chris asked and his response was only another moan, the sound of skin slapping frantically against skin, Leon's breaths high and airy as he bounced audibly against the cabinet door.

 _Oh shit._ Piers quickly turned right back around in the hallway, Leon's next quiet mewl followed by a tiny _I'll be good_ sending heat flushing over Piers' face. He quickly rushed away, embarrassed and a little guilty, going back outside to his chair and hopefully cooling off his newfound _problem._

Thank god no one else noticed how flushed he was.

But twenty minutes later when Leon came back outside to join them, not a hair mussed or a single sign that he had been a moaning submissive _mess_ , his sour attitude was suddenly in check. He was even polite.

Piers realized then, when Chris sauntered out with a fresh beer and a brighter grin, that there was a method behind the madness.


	13. Drugs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris gets called to confront Leon over some new bad habits.
> 
> Tags: Implied Drug Abuse.

"Stop being a fucking dick." Chris snapped. He crossed his arms as he moved into Leon's space, between his knees in the chair, his eyes narrowed and his tolerance _gone._ He leaned back against the old kitchen table to Claire's dismay, ignoring the annoyed titter she made and the way the wood creaked beneath his weight.

Claire had called him to deal with _this_ , after all. Had called him to do damage control. And with the way this conversation had been going, Leon was going to have several more people hounding him in the next hour to _smarten the fuck up_. So if Chris needed to lean against Claire's table in an obvious display of dominance, then so be it.

"If you don't like my answers, then stop asking me questions." Leon snapped back, his tone sassy enough that Chris wanted to just hit him. He was sitting - finally - arms crossed in defiance, legs splayed open. He glared up through his bangs, the power struggle still enduring despite the fact that Leon had been losing for the past half hour. He _knew it,_ knew he wouldn't win this argument, but of course the idiot couldn't go down without a fight.

"Do you really want to throw everything away for this?" Chris snapped. "Raccoon City, Leon. Spain. The work you've done on the Plagas. For what? For you to become a drug addict and lose yourself? You can't help _anyone_ like this, Leon, let alone yourself."

"I'm _not_ addicted-" Leon tried to protest.

"The drinking was one thing, A problem we all knew and ignored. We should have intervened earlier. But this?" Chris asked, voice still firm. "What the hell are you thinking?"

"Leon?" Claire asked gently, moving out from her corner. "Please. Just let us help you."

"There's nothing to help." Leon retorted firmly, eyes still locked on Chris. Leon stuck by that answer for the rest of the night.


	14. Dunking - Torture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leon's been caught and his captors want him to talk.
> 
> Tags: Dunking, Implied torture.

Leon gasped desperately as his head was pulled back up from the bucket, soaked hair sticking to his face, water running down his throat in rivulets into his shirt. He got in one good gulp of oxygen before his head was shoved back into the bucket, iced cubes bouncing against his ears as he struggled. His hands were bound behind his back, knees bruised, and throat burning as he struggled against the hand wound tightly in his hair. They weren't playing nice, had already threatened him with worse. This would only get worse.

He almost wished they would just kill him.

He was pulled back up for air again, gasping greedily, lips trembling and body shuddering as he stared up at his captor, eyes narrowed. He was freezing cold, his nose, lips, and chin numb, every breath wheezing painfully.

"Well?" His captor asked, a wide grin spreading across the man's face. He gave Leon's cheek a condescending pat. "Are you going to spill the beans, Mr Fancy Government Agent, or are we going to have to dunk you a few more times?"

Leon clenched his jaw, face contorting in anger, and his captor knew what his answer would be. They thought they could break him, and Leon really worried they would.

Leon inhaled deep just as the man shoved his face back under.


End file.
